Newborn
by A round of artificiality
Summary: One-shot. Donna is an undead who has no recollection of her previous life. She spends her days helping Undertaker Mordo recover dead bodies and mend them to be Awakened, as she ponders her worth.


Some remembered, and some had lost their memories. Most of the awakened Forsaken with preserved memories went mad or deep in denial. To them, death had been a deep, peaceful slumber and they'd been awakened from it.

Donna could only see darkness when she tried to remember who she was after her Awakening. She had no beautiful scenery to compare it to the greenish hue of the sky and the ever present darkness of an eternal nightfall, no buildings that were feats of architecture to rue the memory of when she saw the ruins of Lordaeron. Her mind was wiped clear and she accepted this world she awakened to as a given with the name they gave her.

One time she'd asked Undertaker Mordo if she'd ever regain back her memories and he'd laughed a deep, free laugh.

"Ah, sweet Donna, consider this a blessing, not a curse. What I would have given to awaken without the past." He said, his blazing eyes dimming, "It still pains me after a hundred years."

Mordo was lost to her as he delved into his past, and her chest hurt at the lack of one; the pain coming from deep inside her soul.

She often fell into a quiet lull, helping Mordo open coffins and recover dead bodies to be awakened, relishing the silence. Sometimes there were pictures placed with the dead, or lovely drawings of the deceased and the family. Mordo allowed her to inspect them, but he'd always asked her to place them back so the dead can hold on to it when they awaken.

"I thought it is better to forget?" Donna wanted to take the photos for her own, to keep them in her pack and to look at them in her spare time. She'd imagined that she knew these smiling faces in her previous life—that she'd lived next to the handsome blonde and they'd been lovers, or she was friends with the girl that had a smile like the sun.

Mordo shook his head, "But you can't steal this right from them."

After the dead with the pictures awakened, she couldn't look them in the eyes as she meekly handed them the prized sovereigns. Donna didn't want to see their pale, rotten faces or the bones protruding from their bodies. She kept remembering the photos she'd memorized (her new memory) when each of them extended his hands to take the evidence of his previous life from her. If she was lucky, one of them would throw it in her face and she'd hold on to that small part of someone else's past so tight to her chest.

Donna herself wasn't found in a coffin. There was no photo or a drawing or a present with her. One of the Forsaken had found her decomposing corpse thrown in a river. The town that used to drink from the river had been bothered when she'd contaminated the water and they couldn't drink anymore, and eventually called in the help of one of the Forsaken to take her away.

Donna didn't hear this from Mordo, of course; he'd been suspiciously tight-lipped when she wondered aloud about the sort of coffin she'd been placed in. Later, she asked around quietly and put the story together.

She felt empty for days afterwards, thinking of how unsignificant she must've been. _The dead body was contaminating the river they drank from._

Mordo stopped working and sat down next to her, Donna opening coffins and not even looking at the pictures, mending bones together without her cheerful humming.

"What's wrong, lass?"

"Nothing, Mordo. Nothing ever matters."

He took her by the chin and looked in her bright eyes, her mossy green hair cut short just below her ears, "Where's the happy Donna? It's not the same without her, this reminds me of the days before sweet, lovely Donna brightened them up for me. Oh, how dull they were."

Despite her sorrow, she laughed, "Old Mordo, you big flirt."

Mordo smiles, "Ah, there she is. Don't let this emotion in your eyes get to you. Once it settles into the depths of your soul, it will never go away. I've seen many of our Forsaken surrender to a fate worse than death."

Donna wished she was beautiful like the blood elven women, and as alive as the city of Orgimmar (she'd only seen it once on a trip with Mordo) but she was happy spending her days with the undertaker who was the only one who cared.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _This is my first fanfic :) There's no obvious plot, it's ironically a 'remembering' one. Donna is my original character and Mordo gives the first couple of quests for an undead character but I imagined his personality._


End file.
